


Awkward Gay Witches

by perfection_located



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 05:36:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5527946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfection_located/pseuds/perfection_located
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When two witches make seperate deals for the same firstborn, things get messy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Awkward Gay Witches

Lucia stood over him, stolen belongings in her hand, magic crackling in the air and sparking through her curly black mane of hair. Richard grovelled below her, staring at the dirt on the ground below his knees. 

“You DARE steal from me?” she all but whispered, in a stony voice that brokered no argument. Her green eyes flashed. “I should kill you on the spot.”

“Please, no,” cried Richard, finally looking up, tears in his eyes. “It was for my family, I swear! We needed the gold!”

Lucia threw the gold bangles in her hand onto the ground in front of him, and they sent up a cloud of dust. Richard looked down in surprise. “Have them,” she spat.

“Wh-what?” exclaimed Richard. “Why?”

“Because I don’t need them, you imbecile. But because you’re stealing for your family, I will steal your family from you. Your firstborn daughter is mine.”

“M-my firstborn daughter?” stuttered Richard. “I’m barely on my fourteenth summer!”

“No matter, she is mine. Now go, before I change my mind.”

Richard, looking up at the witch in pure shock, realized that he could take the deal or die. Nodding quickly, he gathered the gold bangles at his feet and ran from the forest as fast as he could. He had already promised himself he would never marry, and if not for his fear, he would have laughed to himself. The witch would never get her end of the deal.

***

Josephine stared down and the shivering girl who stared up at her defiantly. “I won’t let you kill my parents!” exclaimed the barely 14 girl, water dripping from her soaking wet body and onto the floor of Josephine’s hut.

“Well, you’re just going to have to,” chuckled Josephine. “They did, after all, try killing me.”

“They thought you were evil!” Clara proclaimed. “You were sneaking around at night with a witch staff!

“Well, I am a witch,” shrugged Josephine, reaching up and flicking her annoyingly wispy blonde hair from her face.

“If you kill them, you’ll really be evil!”

“I suppose I will be,” admitted Josephine, struck by the young woman’s words.

“I’ll make you a deal!” said Clara, in a flash of inspiration. “I’ll be loyal to you and work for you if only you leave my parents alone.”

“Oh, no, you won’t do.” Josephine waved Clara off. “You’re already on your 14th summer.  You are useless.” 

“Isn’t there any deal you can make?” begged Clara. “Any at all?”   


Josephine pondered. She’d been needing a firstborn for a while now, to train as an apprentice. The old couple who had tried to kill her, with a pitchfork, of all things, were far too old. “Your firstborn,” Josephine said promptly. 

“My firstborn?” asked Clara, eyes nearly bulging out of her head.

“Yes. Now leave,” commanded Josephine. “Before I get sick of you and kill your parents anyways.” A wave of the witch’s hand sent the girl flying out the door and into the heavy downpour outside. Another wave, and the door was shut firmly.

***

“You may now kiss the bride,” announced the vicar, and two smiling blondes leaned forward for a kiss. A cheer in the crowd rose up and everyone was hooting and hollering. 

“Yeah! Go Clara!” shouted one of the bridesmaids. 

“Richard, my man,” said the best man, giving the smiling blond a sturdy clap on the shoulder.

Only two of the guests in attendance were not invited. 

One, a short, curly haired woman, smiled widely.  _ His fortunes really did change,  _ thought Lucia.  _ He got rich and married a beautiful woman.  _

The other, a tall brunette, watched the whole event with a calculated disdain.  _ So, she managed to snag a rich boy,  _ sneered Josephine, before a miniature tornado of mist carried her away.

***

Clara looked at Richard, holding their new daughter and biting her lip. “Honey,” she said, nearly a whisper. “I have something to tell you about the baby.”

Richard gulped. He too had a confession, but allowed Clara to proceed. “The thing is, when I was 14, I well... something happened and I promised my firstborn to a witch.”

Richard could only stare. “But-but I- I did too,” he blurted. “My firstborn daughter!”

“You-you what? And you never told me?” yelled Clara. 

“Well, you weren’t exactly very forthcoming either!” Richard shouted back. The baby, not yet named, began to cry, blue eyes opening and small mouth wailing. 

No more words were spoken. The wooden door of the couple’s small hut burst open, and through it came a short, curly haired witch with green eyes. Her black hair swirled around her face, clouding her features, but Richard gave a cry. There was no mistaking Lucia’s robes, trimmed with bloodred, or her glinting eyes, full of mischief.

There was a puff of smoke and suddenly the newborn was no longer in Clara’s arms. “Oh, sweetheart,” murmured the witch, wind around her dying down. “Are they yelling? Are they scaring you? That’s all right, I’ll fix it.”

Both parents watched in shock as the small girl quieted down, but only for an instant. The door was blown out of it’s frame with the power of a new arrival. It flew to the other side of the cottage and clattered against the opposite wall. 

“Josephine,” cried Clara. “Please, no!”

A flash this time, and the small child now lay awkwardly in the new arrival’s arms. Josephine’s hair was tied back in an intricate knot, but her eyes were the same clear blue as always. 

“No?,” Josephine asked mockingly. “No?” Suddenly her voice took on a steely quality. “You promised me your child, dearie. She’s mine now.”

Lucia stepped in front of the couple, arms crossed. “She’s mine, actually,” shrugged the much shorter witch, taking in the tall, menacing woman in front of her. Her entire outfit was a beautiful purple, but Lucia shook the thought from her head. 

Josephine stared down in shock at the short, sturdy witch in front of her. “Yours?”

“Well, yes,” shrugged Lucia, as it it were obvious. “The young man here promised me his firstborn daughter, and I’ve come to collect.”

“I extracted a promise from the young woman for her firstborn. This child is mine,” Josephine said firmly. 

“I’m afraid,” Lucia said, summoning the child back to her arms with a puff of smoke, “that she’s mine. I made the deal 15 years ago, way before you did, I’m sure.”

“You seem to be mistaken,” sniffed Josephine, reaching down and simply plucking the quickly upsetting child into her arms. “I also made my deal 15 years past.”

“We’re in a stalemate, then?” asked Lucia, studying Josephine intensely. 

“It seems we are, indeed, as an impasse,” murmured Josephine, eyeing the shorter witch. 

“Misses?” Clara whispered, quiet as a mouse. All heads snapped towards her. 

“Yes?” questioned Josephine, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow. 

“Could, you maybe... share her?” Clara asked, voice barely above a whisper. Her hands played nervously at her dress and she stared at the dirt packed floor of her home. 

“Well....” Lucia thought, out loud. “I suppose, maybe...”

“Share her?” exclaimed Josephine, shocked. “I’ll not share this child with anyone, least of all a blumbering Earth Witch like you!”

“A blumbering Earth Witch! I’d hate to know what you really think of me, you pretentious Water Witch!”

Richard and Clara both took a step forward, confused, but were sent flying back when their movement was noticed. 

“Bah!” cried Josephine. “I’m taking her!”

A puff of smoke was Lucia’s reply. Suddenly, the short woman was holding the child, and with another puff, she was gone. Josephine stared in shock. “You.. what.. gah!” Then she too was gone in a blinding flash of light that left the couple on the floor seeing stars.

Lucia held the now crying baby in her arms, breathing heavily as she leaned against her cottage door. That godforsaken Water Witch had been extremely determined, but Lucia knew that tracking an Earth Witch was nearly impossible. Even those stupid, overpowered Waters had trouble. 

“Now, now,” she whispered to the infant in her arms, who began to quiet almost immediately. “Let’s get you inside and fed, how about that? And then we’ll find you a name. I can’t keep calling you child, you might start thinking it’s your name.” Lucia pulled a silly face and the baby giggled.

Smiling in earnest now, Lucia opened her door, set the infant down on the cradle she had prepared, and bustled about the kitchen to get some milk ready, humming as she worked. Soon, Lucia had fed the little girl, and was rocking her in her arms and singing a soft lullaby. 

This was how Josephine found them 45 minutes later, when she flung open the door with a flash. “Well, hello there,” she smirked, taking a step forward. 

Lucia stood quickly and clutched the child to her chest. “How’d you even find me?” she demanded. 

“Oh, I happen to have my ways,” was the only explanation Josephine gave. 

“You still can’t have her,” snarled Lucia.

“And why ever not?” asked Josephine, voice dripping with a saccharine sweetness. 

Lucia, in a protective rage, blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Because she’s the only daughter I’ll ever be able to have.”

Both women froze. “The... what?” asked Josephine, sarcasm gone from her voice, replaced by shock. 

“I’m infertile,” admitted Lucia. In for a carrin, in for a shick. “And as you very well know, as an Earth Witch I’m only allowed to make a deal for one child, firstborn or not. One deal, only. Ever.”

Josephine processed this information, and tilted her head, regarding the shorter woman. “She is the only firstborn I am ever allowed to claim, and as a Water, I need a firstborn to apprentice,” explained Josephine. “That, madam, Is why I am so desperate.”

Lucia stared directly into Josephine’s eyes, green orbs piercing blue. They each unconsciously took a step forward, and were now a mere 3 feet apart. The silence between them seemed to stretch on for an eternity. Finally, Lucia broke the silence. 

“You know, my offer to share still stands. She can be my daughter, but I’ll let you apprentice her,” offered Lucia, feeling a pang of sympathy for the Water in front of her. Waters, well, they could never have children, and had to pass their skills onto apprentices. Earthens, like Lucia, had children, but couldn’t apprentice. You were either born an Earthen or you weren’t. For either clan, having no child could manifest itself in intense physical and emotional pain.

Josephine could only stare in shock. When she finally found her voice it was shaky. “You would really do that? Allow me to apprentice the child?” People didn’t often show kindness, especially when it came to Water Witches. 

“Well, yes, but we’ve got to work out so many details,” enthused Lucia. “Where we’ll live, what we’ll name her, how we’ll split the time...”

Josephine, as it turned out, stopped processing after “Where we’ll live”. The very idea of sharing a home with someone, especially an... an Earthen, was alien. Lucia continued to ramble, but upon noticing the silence of her companion, trailed off. 

“Umm,” began Lucia, then realized that she didn’t know the name of the Water. “Miss?” she asked.

Josephine snapped out of her trance. “Hmm? Well, look, I haven’t even agreed on your deal yet, so slow down.”

Lucia realized that the Water hadn’t heard anything she’d said. “I think I might actually agree.” The Water looked vaguely surprised. “I can’t very well keep calling you Water, so how about we introduce ourselves, then start discussing custody and training and who knows what else.”

Josephine started when she realized that she was, indeed, unaware of the short Earthen’s name. “My name is Josephine Montenegro, Water Witch 4th class, 8th rank.” Josephine tilted her head a bit, giving a respectful and brief nod. 

“I’m Lucia Brill, Earth, 2nd class, 13th rank,” responded Lucia, giving an equally respectful if smaller nod. She was, after all, still holding the baby. 

“Now,” continued Lucia, “let me set the child down and I’ll get you some tea. Then we can sit and have a nice talk.”

Josephine nodded slowly and took a seat on the most uncomfortable wooden chair in the room, back stiff and staff gripped in her hand tightly. She was used to being in charge, in control, but somehow when it came to the Earthen - to Lucia - her confident, sneering demeanor was gone and Josephine was left a nervous wreck. She resolved to take more initiative, relaxed her grip on her staff, and took a more confident position in her seat. 

Lucia noticed none of this. She was too busy bustling around, setting the child down in the crib, putting a pot of water on the stove to boil, pulling a particular brand of tea off of the shelf. Lucia had trouble reaching the top shelf, but it seemed that using magic never occurred to her. Josephine, who admitted to herself that she could watch Lucia stretch comically all day, gave a twitch of her staff and brought the tea, two cups, and two saucers off of the higher shelves. Another wave brought the water on the stove to a boil. 

Lucia turned to Josephine in surprise. "Did you do that?" she asked. "What am I talking about, of course you did." Lucia rolled her eyes at herself. "Well, um, thanks." 

"It was no trouble. Now are you going to get started on that tea, or will I have to do that too?" Josephine questioned with a straight face, back in full-on queenie mode. 

Lucia seemed to snap out of a trance then, and turned immediately back to the stove to begin preparing the tea. Only when Lucia was completely turned did Josephine allow herself the smallest of smiles. 

Minutes later Lucia set a steaming mug of now steeping tea in front of her guest. "There you go," she said, smiling and taking a seat across the table from Josephine. 

Josephine offered only a nod of her head as acknowledgement and stirred her tea slowly. "Well, shall we get down to business, then?" 

Lucia nodded. "I guess so." The stilted silence between them went on for at least 5 minutes, broken only by random thoughts and questions of where to start.

"Look," said Lucia finally, "let's start with her name, alright?"

"Well, Caroline seems like an acceptable option," suggested Josephine.

"She's my kid, genius, your apprentice. I like Amelia better," shot back Lucia. 

"I understand that apprentice doesn't seem to hold the same meaning as daughter, but I assure you," bit out Josephine, "that the Master traditionally names the apprentice."

"You're just going to have to get used to sharing, then, aren't you, Water? Her name is Amelia, end of story."

"I am afraid not, Earth." Josephine threw out the last word with a cruel edge to it. 

“I’m afraid  _ so. _ ” Lucia stood, then, and though she wasn’t all that tall, she held herself with a powerful air. None of this had anything to do with the name, of course; this was the first step to establishing their power dynamic and neither woman was willing to appear weak. 

Josephine tried her best to act casual, and picked at her nails, still sitting. “Really, you should just give up. Her name is Caroline.”

“I’m going to name my  _ daughter  _ Amelia and there is  _ nothing  _ you can do about it.” Lucia stepped closer to Josephine. 

“You fool. I could just take her and be gone. I’ve no reason to make a deal with you!” Josephine growled, standing and losing all pretense of being chill. They weren’t face to face, what with their height difference, but when Lucia stared up at Josephine their faces were inches apart. 

Both women felt their breath hitch, and they stayed frozen, neither daring to move. 

Josephine trailed her eyes down Lucia’s face, flicking from her eyes to her lips and back, feeling the warm breath on her cheeks. She fought her blush down, barely, but her heart beat faster than it should and her palms began to sweat.

Lucia remained staring at Josephine’s eyes, mesmerized by their clear blue nature, unable to look away. Her anger, running hot in her veins, morphed into something she didn’t feel like naming.

Then the baby let out a small cry and the trance was broken. 

Lucia moved swiftly to the child’s side, lifting her into her arms and shushing her, making small cooing noises until she giggled.

Josephine swallowed and blinked and wiped her hands on her robes before taking in the sight before her. Lucia looked truly happy, holding the child. The black-haired woman was tempted to give in and let the baby be named Amelia, but that thought alone was enough to shock her out of her disgustingly happy thoughts. 

“Well, I suppose we’ll have to compromise, then, won’t we?” she said, edge back in her voice, if less defined than before. 

Lucia looked up like she’d forgotten Josephine was there, then sighed and nodded. “I suppose. Should we give her one of the names as a middle name, or just pick a new one altogether?”

Josephine bit her lip and though for a second. “A new one, I think. Let’s worry about that later, though. We’re both far too attached to something as simple as a name.”

Lucia hummed in agreement and set the baby down. “It seems we are. Should we discuss living arrangements.? I know Waters usually hire nannies for the first few years, and only show up occasionally.”

“Yes, that’s how I was raised. However,” Josephine added, “I’d like to be as active as possible in her life.” They both knew who ‘her’ referred to. “My mentor was effective, yes, but I’m perfectly aware of the antisocial personality traits she cultivated in me.”

“Well, at least you’re aware of them,” Lucia mumbled. “My question is really this: Would you like to live here, with us, or will you be leaving us for a few years and returning when she’s old enough to learn?”

“You’re,” Josephine paused, slightly taken aback, “you’re offering to let me live with you?”

Josephine had, indeed, been planning to leave for five years or so, then popping in when the time came to take the child as her apprentice. She had a large home up in the mountains, but, well, it got lonely. The idea that she would have people to share her home with was enticing. 

Lucia saw indecision and what may have been hope on Josephine’s face, and decided she had to take control again. “In fact, I insist. I’m not a nanny for hire you can kick out of her life when it suits you.” Aggression seemed to work better than pity on Josephine, so that was what she went with. “You’ll be staying with us, and taking care of the child with me. If you want to teach her magic, you’ll have to change her diapers.”

Josephine stared at Lucia, brow crinkling. She considered reacting to the hostility with her own, but then her face relaxed. “Very well.”

Lucia nodded and held out her hand. 

“But,” Josephine was quick to add, “we’re not co-parents. I have my own life to deal with, so you’ll have to do the majority of the caring. I’ve still got a business to keep up with and plenty of people to handle on a daily basis. I won’t be here all of the time, understood? And once the child comes of age, I will start taking her out with me for longer periods of time to teach her magic, and you must allow it. Do you agree?”

“Of course. But you can’t simply take her without telling me. You’ll have to inform me. And,” Lucia said, holding up a finger to shush Josephine, “you need to be here at least two days a week. I make most of my money from my garden, but I still have a shop to run and I can’t do it with the child there.”

Josephine mulled it over before taking Lucia’s hand and shaking it firmly. “It seems we have a deal.”

Lucia couldn’t help the small half smile that took over her face. “It seems we do. Now go heat the tea again, and some milk too. I think Esperanza is hungry again.”

“Esperanza?” Josephine asked. “Is that what we’re naming her?”

“It means hope."  



End file.
